


Company of Animals (Part #2)

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bilbo Is Awesome, Dwarves in Pain, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he returns from gathering firewood, Bilbo finds that instead of Dwarves and a Wizard, the camp is full of woodland animals. Bebother and confusticate these mishap spells!</p><p>(Sequel to justalotoffeelings' story "Company of Animals". Thank you so much for giving me permission!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company of Animals (Part #2)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justalotoffeelings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalotoffeelings/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Company of Animals](https://archiveofourown.org/works/863826) by [justalotoffeelings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalotoffeelings/pseuds/justalotoffeelings). 



Bilbo froze abruptly, his grip tightening on the kindling he’d gathered. What in Arda was happening at camp? Echoing through the woods, a wild chorus of animal cries reached the Hobbit’s ears. The thought came to mind that a wolf pack was attacking the Company and before he knew what he was doing Bilbo was running toward the noise instead of away from it.

When he emerged into the clearing, Bilbo forgot all about the firewood in his shock. What seemed a dozen or more animals had invaded their encampment, and there were no Dwarves or Wizard to be seen—only their clothes and accessories, lying abandoned in leathery, furry, woolen piles.

Bilbo stood gaping for a minute or so, his mind racing, trying to understand the scene before him. The Hobbit’s eyes rested on Gandalf’s staff, which was glowing and spewing sparks in the air. As his processing sequence clicked further and further, Bilbo turned pale.

“Oh. No.”

Thorin was barking and snarling furiously, all the thick, dark hackles on his neck bristling, his razor-sharp teeth bared at Gandalf, who was flapping his long gray stork wings indignantly back at the king-turned-wolf.

A long screech rang out above the Hobbit’s head. A snowy owl, Balin, sat huddled in a tree and he had no qualms about expressing his terror. Dwalin had found his attempts to coax Balin down futile in bear form and now lifted his head to the sky, roaring violent rage at his ineffectiveness.

Fíli had pinned down Kíli in a corner, trying to speak coherently, but the lion cub could only huff and mew at the wolf whelp. Kíli couldn’t remain still, instead whining and yipping anxiously and trying to escape his alarmingly large older brother.

Rattling his thick ram horns, Óin trotted chaotically after Glóin, who reared and shook his long auburn mane, kicking his solid packhorse hooves vehemently at the air. The duet of their feral bleating and neighing was deafening as they chased each other in great billows of dust.

Dori’s downy hen wing was spread protectively over Ori, whose tiny rabbit form trembled violently in a ball. They watched Nori with wide eyes as he stalked to and fro, twitching his fox tail and emitting snuffly, agitated growls.

Bofur squeaked in dismay, writhing and thrashing to get his lean otter body unpinned from under his hat. His cousin Bifur was close by, arching his back as he pealed out nasty badger screams. Bombur tumbled about, honking in babe-like distress, his rotund panda form unhelpful in the matter of standing.

Edging toward the Company, Bilbo called out weakly, “I’m back...” None of the animals listened, of course, for their fright was far too great. Somehow he had to get their attention. Eventually Bilbo ended up crouching down near the Heirs of Durin.

“Fíli?” he ventured. “Kíli?” To Bilbo’s great relief the cub and the pup responded to their names and looked up at him. Their young eyes lit up with recognition and they both lunged at him. Bilbo hurriedly caught them, balancing them in each arm.

“Shh, it’s alright now, lads. I’ve got you.” Bilbo winced slightly as they hooked their tiny, sharp claws into his coat and nuzzled their wet snouts into his neck, small bodies heaving with emotion. Bilbo took a moment to consider where he should take them. _To Uncle_ was the immediate answer. He would likely know how to care for his charges.

With a steeling breath Bilbo strode toward the gigantic wolf Thorin, who had since abandoned his heated rail on Gandalf and now sat sulking majestically in a corner. The Hobbit said the Dwarf’s name and Thorin’s head jerked up. Something like surprise flashed in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly Bilbo didn’t notice.

“I’ve got your neph—” Bilbo hardly got to finish his sentence before huge paws were in the middle of his chest, almost knocking him flat. Thorin’s ragged, panicked breaths were hot against Bilbo’s face as he poked his snout anxiously against Fíli and Kíli’s backs. The Durin Heirs turned their heads and instantly began scrabbling to be released, yowling and baying hysterically for their uncle. Bilbo liberated them. He watched Thorin rub his head against the boys’, whining quietly in relief.

Abruptly Thorin lifted his head, thin whiskers twitching as he saw the Hobbit massaging his forehead because of the noise. Striding into the middle of the clearing, Thorin barked once, twice, and then released a commanding howl. Even in animal form he was intimidating, as was shown by the sudden quiet of the others in the Company. Thorin paused, shifting his gaze to Bilbo.

The Hobbit abruptly realized that _Thorin_ was submitting to _him_ for instruction. He stuttered a bit. “I...uh, first I want to say that...I’m very sorry that this happened to all of you.”

Dwalin’s growl was supposed to be under his breath, but as a bear he had a conspicuous undertone. Bilbo hurried to get the words out before Dwalin decided to maul something—or someone.

“These enchantments will probably (might...hopefully...) lift tomorrow, so I would suggest...just getting sleep for now and then seeing what we can do in the morning.” He gulped at the stony silence of his companions and glanced at Thorin.

The wolf cocked an ear for a moment, as though considering. At last with a familiar sigh Thorin settled down on the ground. Fíli bounded over, curling up between his uncle’s front paws. Kíli came immediately afterward and nestled close, resting his small chin on the curve of Thorin’s haunch.

Bilbo watched as the other animals retreated with their families into established corners. Some positions took some getting used to. Balin decided against sleeping near Dwalin for fear of getting smashed, Nori made a snap or two at Dori before sullenly allowing him near, and Bifur flinched whenever Bofur’s bristly fur touched him. Eventually, however, everyone began falling asleep. Bilbo wandered for a while, uncertain of where he should go. He sat away from the others with his chin on his knees, listening to the sounds of sleep from the animals. Then a low woof sounded.

The Hobbit looked toward the source and saw ice-blue eyes staring at him through the dark. Only he and Thorin were awake, studying each other contemplatively. After a moment Thorin woofed again, motioning with his head toward the pack that sat near him.

Bilbo was astonished but somewhat relieved. None of the Dwarves or Gandalf would be using their bedrolls tonight, which meant he was allowed to take one. He stood, nodding his thanks to Thorin as he approached. With bedroll in hand Bilbo pivoted to walk away, but halted at an unexpected growl of disagreement.

Awkwardly Bilbo stood there with his back to the Mountain King. He fidgeted slightly before giving in and returning, laying out the bedroll next to Kíli. Seeming satisfied, Thorin rested his chin lightly atop Fíli’s body and closed his eyes.

Bilbo eyed the wolf curiously and couldn’t help hissing, “Why?”

When the eyes opened again they were irritable narrow slits.

“Sorry,” Bilbo apologized hastily, turning his back. As he curled up against the cold Bilbo prayed that whenever they returned to normal the Dwarves wouldn’t blame him for their metamorphosis. He was the one who had given each of them an animal comparison. Was it just coincidence that the very next day they ended up as those exact animals? The Hobbit hoped so.

++++

Bilbo stirred the next morning when something smooth and wispy brushed across his face. Opening his eyes Bilbo saw that Thorin’s tail was swishing back and forth in its owner’s slumber.

Thorin’s _tail_?

The Hobbit’s heart sank. Thorin had a tail, which meant that his companions had not changed back to their regular forms. Bilbo sat up to consider the Dwarf king and his nephews.

Thorin was sprawled on his side, paws up underneath him with his tail curled gently around. If Bilbo looked closely he could see Kíli using the tail as a coverlet. Fíli was in the same place as before, tucked beneath his uncle’s chin almost like a golden pillow.

A small smile touched Bilbo’s face. He had to admit that, as animals, those three were the perfect picture of a father and his sons. When they were Dwarves, it was harder to see the resemblance among them, what with the boys being so affectionate and Thorin being such a misery.

Rising noiselessly, Bilbo tiptoed around the camp, scrutinizing each of the families. Though they were all different animals, there were, amazingly, still ways to tell they were related. Pondering this, Bilbo set about cleaning the camp of last night’s chaos, shaking out dusty clothing and folding it neatly in piles to await re-donning by its owners.

Bilbo was just settling Gandalf’s hat atop his long robe and scarf when his ears caught a quiet outbreath from behind. The Hobbit turned to find sleep-glazed silver eyes peering at him from a few yards away.

“Good morning, Dwalin,” Bilbo greeted the bear with a touch of nervousness.

Bilbo received an unnervingly close study of Dwalin’s dangerous teeth as he yawned. Rising to his paws, Dwalin began lumbering listlessly about the camp.

“Are you looking for something?”

Dwalin ignored Bilbo’s question, nosing at one of the unopened Dwarven packs. Bilbo shuffled toward him.

“Really, Mr. Dwalin,” he ventured again. “If you’re looking for something, I might know where to find it.”

With a wet snuffle Dwalin turned toward Bilbo and sat back on his hind legs. This brought him to an intimidating height, but Dwalin’s expression wasn’t stormy. Instead he seemed rather worried and unsettled.

“What is it you need?” Bilbo asked hastily. It turned out that Dwalin’s stomach responded, complaining of emptiness. Dwalin allowed silence to fall before fixing an expectant gaze on the Hobbit.

Realization dawned on Bilbo’s face. “Oh...food! Um...what do bears eat?”

Dwalin’s eyes narrowed and a corner of his lip lifted in a menacing snarl. _How should I know, Halfling?!_ was the most likely thing the Dwarf would have said.

Bilbo lifted a finger. “Half a moment, Mr. Dwalin. I’ll try to find something...” His sentence trailed off awkwardly as he shuffled away, murmuring distractedly. He had a substantial problem. The Company ate enough as Dwarves. As animals, who knew how much they’d want? And _what_ would they want, anyway?

Bilbo became increasingly anxious as the camp grew in activity and its occupants awoke and grew in hunger. The Hobbit was helpless as the Company of animals turned to him as food-finder. He had nothing to give them and reluctantly told them so.

When Bombur heard this he commenced a desolate, piteous whining. Bifur’s protective genes kicked in and he jerked his head around to hiss furiously at Bilbo. The Hobbit grimaced and covered his ears.

It was then that feathers brushed his leg. Bilbo looked down in surprise to find Gandalf. The stork flapped a wing, apparently gesturing for Bilbo to follow. Gandalf stopped Bilbo at the staff that he’d propped against a tree.

“What are you trying to say, Gandalf?” Bilbo asked in confusion.

Gandalf blinked at him as though he couldn’t believe Bilbo wasn’t getting it. There was a sudden outburst of noise from the Company, squeals and screeches and barking. Gandalf ignored them all and tried to wrap his wings around the staff. It fell through his plumy fingers. Bilbo, being the kind fellow he was, picked it up and firmly planted it in Gandalf’s grasp. He held it there and gratitude spoke through Gandalf’s eyes.

It took many attempts for the wizard-turned-stork to actually speak coherently and many of the Company lost hope and trailed away to pout. Therefore, none of them were expecting to feel the sudden burn of magic stab at their skin, peeling away the outer layers of hair and feather. Bilbo watched in horror as they all fell to the ground, writhing and screaming with varying levels of dynamism.

All at once the screams became lightheaded gibberish which became Dwarven curses which became Common Speech. With a gasp Bilbo quickly averted his eyes from the improperly unclothed Dwarves and Wizard.

Thorin helped his dazed nephews dress first and then dressed himself. With as much dignity he could muster, the King strode toward the Hobbit, who stood with his head down. Thorin’s hand landed on Bilbo’s shoulder, causing him to look up.

“Thank you for taking charge in my... _absence_ , Master Hobbit,” Thorin said gravely. Then he was away once more, the edge of his fur coat brushing Bilbo’s nose. The sensation once again gave Bilbo the mental image of illustrious Thorin with a wolf tail and for the rest of the day the Hobbit found it very hard not to laugh.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this sequel met the standards set by its predecessor!! :)


End file.
